


Sex on the Beach

by Hylian Shadow (Hylian_Shadow)



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles X
Genre: Alcohol, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:18:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hylian_Shadow/pseuds/Hylian%20Shadow
Summary: "No, not sex on the beach,Sex on the Beach.""Cross, would you mind explaining what your teammate is going on about?"





	Sex on the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> No major spoilers. Just lots of talking about booze.

It seemed like there was _always_ someone in the barracks, especially once Nagi started slipping in looking for tea and a quiet place to sit and think. Typically, however, when Elma found Yelv and Frye in her team's barracks, things were noisy, full of yelling and roughhousing, because there were _reasons_ she'd threatened to hurl the lot of them, Cross included, out onto Division Drive more than once.

Today, on the other hand, both men were strangely quiet, sitting on the couches near Cross, all three pouring over something on their comm devices. Elma stood by the door and just watched for a long moment. Cross staring at his comm device was normal. The other two using theirs for anything other than a quick glance...? As much as Elma would have liked to think that maybe Cross's good habits were rubbing off on the others, she knew Yelv and Frye, and so she knew that wasn't happening.

"Man, I can't find Sex on the Beach anywhere!" Frye muttered.

"It would be easier if you were anywhere near a beach, don't you think?" Elma said, scowling. "And why would you want sex on the beach? Won't that just get sand in places you don't want it?"

Frye glanced up at her. "No, not sex on the beach, _Sex on the Beach._ You've never heard of it?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Cross, would you mind explaining what your teammate is going on about?"

Frye rolled his eyes and went back to reading. Yelv gave Cross a quick sympathetic look. Cross, in turn, just looked up and gave Elma a look that clearly said 'what did _I_ do?'

"You heard me, Rook. What is your teammate talking about?"

He sighed and let his head fall back against the couch. "It's a kind of drink, Elma."

"And?"

"I found it in something I was reading. I wanted to know what it was, but neither of them knew either, so... we're looking it up."

"So the three of you are in the barracks alone researching sex on the beach..." She sighed. "This wasn't how I expected you to use your newfound archives access." Especially Cross. She had -- apparently foolishly -- assumed that Cross would use his access to read about Earth and try to jog his memory. Frye looking up some drink made sense, but...

"I found it, Pard!" Yelv jumped to his feet, eyes still locked onto the screen. "This says it's vodka and peach schnapps and a couple kinds of juice and --"

"What?" Frye snapped. "It's a stupid fruity drink? Man, what a disappointment."

"Says there's a variation called 'Sex on Fire' that uses cinnamon whiskey --"

"Now that's more like it!"

"I don't know," Cross said, sounding thoughtful. "I think the original sounds like it might be good."

"Yeah, well, you drink that weird Prone shit, too," Frye countered. "Your sense of taste is obviously broken. Really should have that looked at."

"I did that _once_ because I was being polite." Cross folded his arms across his chest. "Besides, I thought you wanted to try every booze in existence. I can ask --"

"Oh, _hell_ no. I draw the line at weird xeno booze."

"I dunno. I'd try it," Yelv said, looking up. "Pard tends to have good ideas."

"Yeah, well, xeno booze ain't 'good' by any standard."

Cross raised a finger. "Question, mate. Which is worse, weird xeno booze or stupid fruity drinks?"

"Er, uh..." Frye scowled.

"I think you should look up the alcohol content of your 'stupid fruity drinks'," Elma said with a chuckle. "You might be surprised how much hard liquor goes into some of those. They taste fruity, but they're far from weak."

"And they're easier to drink," Cross added. "They don't burn your throat like straight shots do."

"Worried about your throat, Pard? Yeah, I can see it. You _do_ scream a lot."

"Yes, well, we both know how much Cross can scream." Elma didn't bother holding back a smile at that. "But I'm sorry, Frye. I didn't give you the chance to answer."

"Huh." Frye looked at each of them in turn. Elma continued smiling. Yelv grinned. Cross looked exasperated for a brief moment, but then he shrugged. "Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something here? Eh, whatever.

"Anyway, when you put it _that_ way... I guess if I had to drink one or the other, I'd take the fruity drink. Least it's made with human booze, right? Still, though, I think I'd rather just have the vodka straight, but then I _like_ it when it burns my throat."

Yelv snickered. "Yeah, well, you don't scream much. Or maybe you're just a masochist."

"What? Do I look like a masochist?" Frye smirked. "I just know how to handle the burn."

"If you say so," Cross replied, raising his eyebrows. "But in that case, you'll have no problem drinking a Sex on the Beach with the rest of us."

Frye grimaced.

"But wait, Pard, how are we going to _make_ the drinks? Mira doesn't have cranberries."

"Exactly!" Frye said with a vigorous nod. "If you don't follow the recipe, then it's not the same drink. So since we can't make it right, let's just skip straight to the vodka and --"

"Well, then, we'll make our own version of it! Mira needs its own drink, don't you think? Elma, Pard? You agree with me?"

Elma considered that. "People have invented drinks for dumber reasons. Perhaps we _should_ commemorate our success with a new drink."

"I bet we can use the original recipe as a base," Cross added. "It wants juice, right? We can use juice from a Miran fruit."

" _Or_ we could just skip all of that and _vodka._ Seriously, what _is_ it with you guys and your obsession with this?"

"Where's your sense of adventure, Frye?" Yelv asked, grinning. "Besides, if we get the stuff and mix it ourselves, then you can have all the vodka you want."

Frye seemed to consider that. "Mix it ourselves, huh? All right, you've got a deal... on one condition."

"Fire away."

"If I have to try this Sex on the Beach thing, you all have to try the Killer Ostrich Special."

"What's that?"

"I don't know yet. Give me a few minutes with a liquor cabinet, and we'll see what I come up with."

Elma chuckled. "First, you'll have to stock the liquor cabinet. We don't have any."

"What? No booze?" Frye stared at Cross, aghast. "How do you  _function?_ "

Cross shrugged. "I really don't drink that much, mate."

"Yeah, we're a bad influence," Yelv said with a laugh. "When we're not around, he doesn't drink nearly as much as you'd think."

Frye shook his head. "So you have no booze."

"I think we still have some cooking wine?"

Frye scowled, first at Cross and his little amused smirk and then at Yelv and his very amused laughter. " _Fine._ We'll just have to  _get_ ourselves a liquor cabinet."

"And juice!" Yelv added. "We can't have Sex on the Beach without juice!"

"Oh, I'm sure Cross will find a way." Elma gave Cross a small smirk.

"Eh, he probably will," Frye said, not noticing. "He's good at finding workarounds."

"Yeah, count on Pard to be reliable!"

Elma laughed as she walked over to steal Cross's seat on the couch. Cross gave her a questioning look; she only laughed harder.

"By all means," she said once she could speak again, "don't let me stop you."

Yelv threw his arm around Frye's shoulders. "Don't worry; there will be plenty of Sex on the Beach for everyone!"

"Yeah, well, keep  _that_ up," Frye said with a grimace, "and there will be plenty of Killer Ostrich Special for everyone, too."

Elma raised her eyebrows and smirked at Cross. "Oh, I'm not concerned with the amount of sex on the beach."

Cross tried to respond to that, but he couldn't find the words. Yelv cut him off, anyway. "C'mon, Pard! We've got shopping to do!"

 


End file.
